WASHINGTON – The U.S. military was closely tracking a one-eyed bandit across the Sahara in 2003 when it confronted a hard choice that is still reverberating a decade later. Should it try to kill or capture the target, an Algerian jihadist named Moktar Belmoktar, or let him go?
Belmoktar had trained at camps in Afghanistan, returned home to join a bloody revolt and was about to be blacklisted by the United Nations for supporting the Taliban and al-Qaida. But he had not yet, at the time, attacked Americans, and did not appear to pose a threat outside his nomadic range in the badlands of northern Mali and southern Algeria.
Military commanders planned to launch airstrikes against Belmoktar and a band of Arabs they had been watching in the Malian desert, according to three current and former U.S. officials familiar with the episode. But the ambassador to Mali at the time said she vetoed the plan, arguing that a strike was too risky and could stir a backlash against Americans.
Since then, Belmoktar has gradually built an al-Qaida-branded network while expanding his exploits as a serial kidnapper, smuggler and arms dealer. Last month, his group, the Masked Brigade, took dozens of hostages at a natural-gas complex in Algeria. At least 38 foreign captives were killed, including several Japanese.
In addition to raising his global profile, the spectacular attack turned Belmoktar into a symbol of how the U.S. over the past 10 years bungled an ambitious strategy to prevent al-Qaida from gaining a foothold in North and West Africa.
The U.S. government has invested heavily in counterterrorism programs in the region, spending more than $1 billion since 2005 to train security forces, secure borders, promote democracy, reduce poverty and spread propaganda.
The strategy was portrayed as a sobering lesson from the costly invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. By stabilizing weak African countries, the goal was to keep al-Qaida out and obviate the need to send U.S. combat forces into the Sahara.
Despite those efforts, Belmoktar’s group and a hazy array of other jihadist factions and rebellious tribesmen seized control of the northern half of Mali last year. In March, a U.S.-trained Malian officer carried out a coup, further plunging the country into chaos.
“We had this great program and we put hundreds of millions of dollars into it, and it failed. Why did it fail?” said a member of the U.S. special operations forces who worked in Africa until he retired last year. “Fundamentally, we missed the boat.”
Todd Moss, deputy assistant secretary of state for African affairs from 2007 to 2008, blamed “a wholly inadequate policy response.” He said U.S. officials placed their faith in a flawed model to promote development and build institutions, especially in northern Mali.
“There was no consensus on the size or seriousness of the threat,” he added. “We were looking through both civilian and military rose-colored glasses. And that should give us pause as we try to figure out how to move forward.”
By 2003, U.S. officials were becoming alarmed about the potential for Islamist extremists to establish a haven in North or West Africa. Radicals who failed to topple the Algerian government in the 1990s had moved deep into the Sahara, hiding in the hinterlands of impoverished countries such as Mali, Mauritania and Niger, where they turned to smuggling and other criminal rackets.
Among them was a former paratrooper known as Abderrazak Al Para, who kidnapped 32 Europeans and collected $6 million in ransom.
No American hostages were involved in that kidnapping, but the incident drew the attention of commanders at the U.S. European Command in Stuttgart, Germany. Using satellite imagery and other sources, the U.S. military tracked Al Para and shared the intelligence with African governments, which pursued him across the desert. After an epic chase, he was captured in Chad.
Around the same time, the U.S. military also started to track Belmoktar and floated a plan to fire missiles into an Arab camp in northern Mali. Vicki Huddleston, then the U.S. ambassador to Mali, said she blocked the operation. It was unclear if Belmoktar was actually present, and he was considered a minor figure, she recalled in an interview.
“I said ‘no.’ First, you don’t know who these people are, and second, it’s a bad idea,” she said. “We had a big fight over this.”
The four-star air force general in charge of the operation, Charles Wald, now retired, acknowledged that he wanted to nab Belmoktar, but insisted airstrikes were not a serious option. He said the U.S. military wanted to share intelligence and gear with Algeria and Mali so they could arrest or kill Belmoktar, but that civilian U.S. leaders refused. “The answer at that time was, ‘Not our business.’ ”
Wald is still angry at what he sees as a missed opportunity, saying the military had “about 1,000” chances to get the bandit. “We allowed Belmoktar to become larger than life,” he said in an interview. “He was well within reach,” he added. “It would have been easy.”
Ten years later, the general and ambassador still disagree over whether they should have seized that chance to eliminate Belmoktar. But they concur the dispute foreshadowed flaws in the forthcoming U.S. strategy to prevent al-Qaida from planting roots in the region.
“I’m really frustrated right now because I think we blew it,” Wald said, speaking in general about U.S. counterterrorism policy in Africa. “We’ve gone backward, frankly.”
Huddleston was later appointed by President Barack Obama as the top Africa policy official in the Pentagon, where she earned a reputation among her former diplomatic colleagues as a zealous hawk on security matters.
She said the U.S. government never overcame divisions over how aggressively it should respond to the emergence of al-Qaida’s North African affiliate. The Pentagon was often too eager to take direct military action, she added, while the State Department was too willing to tolerate al-Qaida’s presence.
“The issue has come up again and again,” said Huddleston, who retired from the Pentagon at the end of 2011. “The Defense Department wanted to help the countries in the region to confront the threat, and State wanted to contain.”
The failure to keep Islamist extremists from taking over northern Mali was not for lack of money or attention from Washington.
In 2005, the U.S. government started the Trans-Sahara Counterterrorism Partnership — the innovative, $1 billion collection of programs designed to prevent the spread of radicalism. It delivered humanitarian aid and security assistance to 10 countries in North and West Africa, drawing on the combined resources of the military, the State Department and the Agency for International Development.
The partnership was dogged by problems from the outset, however, as U.S. agencies squabbled internally and struggled to understand an unfamiliar cultural and political terrain.
In 2007, the administration of President George W. Bush created a separate Africa Command to oversee military activity on the continent, fueling fears among Africans that the United States was militarizing its foreign policy and looking to construct new bases. Facing a backlash, the Pentagon was forced to call off its search for an African headquarters for the command. It remained in Germany, instead.
The new command was largely a paper institution, with no regular troops assigned to it. Wald, the retired air force general, said the whole approach was misguided. “The Africans didn’t want us there in the first place, so they started out behind the power curve to start with,” he said. “We can’t lead them around condescendingly.”
In 2008, the Government Accountability Office criticized the Pentagon, State Department and USAID for lacking a “comprehensive, integrated strategy” for the partnership. The investigative arm of Congress found the agencies did not collaborate well and could not measure whether the aid was doing any good.
A senior State Department official, speaking on condition of anonymity to talk candidly about the $1 billion Saharan counterterrorism strategy, acknowledged that it was hard to measure the program’s effectiveness. “To be very honest with you, we’re not very good at quantifying it.”
The program focused heavily on Mali, a landlocked, famine-prone country that American officials worried was vulnerable to Islamist extremists coming south from Algeria.
The U.S. military engaged the Malians in annual regional military exercises, code-named Flintlock. U.S. special forces also spent years training specialized Malian units, known as ETIAs. But the challenges were evident.
Many of the soldiers were black-skinned Malians from the south who had little familiarity with the Arab and Tuareg tribes that populate the north. In hindsight, U.S. officials said they should have recognized that the black troops would clash with the Tuaregs, who have a long history of grievances against the Malian central government, instead of al-Qaida. But few of the U.S. special forces instructors were conversant in local culture or native languages and did not pick up the cues.
“That’s the key ingredient that was always missing in this, and is only now coming to light — would they really fight?” said Rudolph Atallah, director of African counterterrorism programs in the Pentagon from 2003 to 2009. “There was no thought about taking the cultural piece a little bit deeper.”
There were also clear signs that the Malian government had little interest in fighting al-Qaida. Suspicions abounded among U.S. officials and other diplomats that Malian leaders were pocketing a portion of the ransoms that Belmoktar and other jihadists collected from their kidnapping schemes.
“We made a big effort to build the political will in Mali, and it never succeeded,” said a senior Obama administration official who spoke on condition of anonymity. “They always told us what they thought we wanted to hear, but they never followed it up with actions.”
The U.S. strategy for the region began to fall apart in 2009.
Military leaders in Mauritania and Niger — two countries that bookend Mali — toppled their governments in coups, forcing the Pentagon to cut off military training. That left the United States more dependent on Mali to spearhead its antiterrorism programs.
By 2011, Mali’s security was visibly deteriorating as Tuareg mercenaries and Islamist extremists flooded into the north and domestic political strife came to a boil. After the March coup, Washington severed all security aid to the Malian military.
Even now, disagreement persists inside the Obama administration over whether the threat posed by Belmoktar and other al-Qaida loyalists in northern Mali warrant a more forceful response by the U.S. military.
“Nobody’s arguing that they should be left unmolested,” said the senior State Department official. “But if they’re stuck in the middle of Mali’s northern mountains, that in itself doesn’t matter.”